Earrings and Advice
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "You'll never forget that sometimes, people can surprise you." Guinan wasn't always the one giving good advice. In 1890s San Fransisco, she was the one getting it.


We all know that Guinan loves her hats. When you look a little closer, you'll notice that she has a lot of earrings, too - which is what inspired this little ficlet.

For my own reference: 92nd fanfiction, 2nd story for _Star Trek: TNG_. My previous one was published two years ago today. :)

* * *

Guinan was glad that she'd come to earth. Her father would never think to look for her on this planet, where civilization was still centuries away from developing warp drive. In San Fransisco, the cutting edge of transportation technology was the new cable-car system, called the _trolley_ , and it was all that anyone in the city talked about. Guinan hadn't even been in San Fransisco for ten minutes when the hotel's black-haired young bellhop asked as he carried her bags, "Have you taken a ride on our new trolleys yet, Madam?" But she never tired of hearing about it; she loved the trolleys as much as they did. It was as different as could be from traveling on a starship. She loved the bells and whistles, the sway of the car, the close press of the other passengers.

Guinan loved Market Street, too. She visited there whenever she grew weary of the stuffy restrictions of the socialite life that she had constructed for herself. Market Street was always crowded and bustling with shoppers, salesmen, and stalls full of crafts, clothes, and bric-a-brac. She rarely bought anything, but she loved to look. One Saturday morning, she stopped in front of a stall selling jewelry to admire a pair of earrings. The old man behind the booth delivered a sales pitch, saying that the earrings were made of real gold, mined right here in San Fransisco. "And for a pretty lady like yourself, they're only sixty cents, a real bargain."

Guinan smiled. The humans of this planet could be so quaint and fascinating, but their constant interest in money made her grateful that her own species no longer used currency. "They are lovely," she told him, "but I only came to look."

She had turned and was walking away from his stall when the old man called for her to come back. Guinan returned, and something in the old man's gaze as he watched her approach made her wonder if perhaps he wasn't really human. Perhaps he was some alien species in disguise, like herself. She would've recognized a fellow El-Aurian... but could he be a Betazoid? Or a Kalandan? There were so many species who looked identical to humans.

"If I sold you these earrings for sixty cents," the old man said, "all you would remember is that you'd gotten a good deal. You would probably throw them in the back of your jewelry box and never wear them. _But_..." He paused, and then, to Guinan's surprise, he picked up the golden earrings and placed them inside a little paper shopping bag, "if I _give_ them to you, for free, then you'll never forget me. You'll never forget this fine day in San Fransisco." He paused and gestured at the warm, sunny day around them, loud with the helter-skelter noise of trolley cars and horse-drawn buggies. "And you'll never forget that sometimes, people can surprise you."

* * *

Her quarters aboard the Enterprise were always cool and comfortable, thanks to ship's perfectly-regulated climate control, but whenever Guinan took the golden earrings out of her jewelry box, they were always warm to her touch, as if they still held the heat of that long-ago summer day in San Fransisco, decades before the Golden Gate Bridge and centuries before Starfleet Academy. Whenever she fastened them onto her ears, she could almost hear the echo of the trolley-car, its bell clanging as it barreled along down Market Street.

The old man hadn't been an alien, of course. He was a human, already old by human standards, and now long-dead - but not forgotten. His prediction had come true. Nearly five hundred years later, Guinan still remembered him. Nearly five hundred years later, she still tried to pass on his generosity and kindness.

 **FIN**


End file.
